Chương 1: Not the first day

With quick and soft steps, Lucian followed the screaming through the forest, searching for its source. In almost two days, this was the first time he had heard anything in this place besides the gusts of wind, the fallen leaves, and the occasional blue colored rodents running away. There was also the boar incident, but he tried not to think about that. As the screams began to die down, he saw, amidst the night cast in a red hue thanks to his enhanced vision, the blaze of a raging fire.

His eyes glinted, and the iron fragrance of blood drifted to his nostrils, causing his darkened figure to pause. Human blood, he thought. Freshly dead humans. Lucian calmed his breath and, akin to a shadow, approached what he soon recognized as wreckage. Half a dozen wagons lay broken, with corpses and goods scattered throughout them. What had seemed like a camp was now a burning battlefield, missing the expected screams of dying men and women, but having the less expected laughter of a few men.

Holding himself back from sating his thirst on the nearest human corpse, and knowing all too well the state of his current condition, Lucian stalked along the periphery of the battlefield, holding his breath as he searched for the ones laughing. The ones still alive that could pose a threat to his weakened self. It did not take long for him to spot three men surrounding one of the wagons, now aflame, while a fourth laughed at a woman as she clawed and fought against the aggressor's hands.

Most importantly, for Lucian, they were all speaking gibberish while stripping dozens of corpses and throwing them on a pyre next to them. Are these eastern mortals speaking in some secret language? he thought. His eyes checked the battlefield, and he observed that most corpses held weapons, but the four men seemed intact, with no wounds in sight.

Frowning as he tried to recall which part of the Eastern Region had this kind of accent, Lucian failed to recognize what they were saying, even if he had learned all known languages ages ago. He instinctively wanted to confront them and demand that they speak properly, yet he restrained himself. Pressing his lips together, he let his gaze briefly fall to his right hand, usually pale and pristine, now marked by a red scar. A scar he remembered was caused by a boar.

He could have avoided the creature's charge, but given how annoyed he had been by not knowing where he was, he had intended to swat it aside with a single slap. However, Lucian had failed to realize just how weakened his body had become after waking up in this forest. Now, after that unwanted learning opportunity, he wouldn't be so careless.

Glancing at the laughing men, who seemed far too relaxed for the current situation, he understood that even disarmed as they were, they must possess some source of confidence to deal with whatever the forest could bring. They had killed two dozen armed guards and half a hundred civilians, and were moving the heavy wagons as though they weighed nothing. Lucian glimpsed one of the men place a hand against a flaming wagon.

For an instant, something seemed to surge beneath the man's skin, spreading from his arm to his palm. Then, without hesitation, he reached into the flames and pulled out a metal box. His skin had reddened from the heat, yet there was not a single burn upon it. Did he use magic? Or is it some kind of mutation? Lucian narrowed his eyes but, after a moment of reflection, stepped back and walked toward the opposite side of the ruined camp, where only corpses remained.

His nose guided him more than his vision, and soon, he found a body yet to be burned. Briefly studying the deceased's wounds, Lucian noticed the absence of cuts or slashes. There was a singular hole in the man's heart, indicating the cause of death, but that was all. Grabbing the corpse by its collar and pulling it upright, he made a mental note about the lack of wounds and began to analyze his food. A man in his forties, with a healthy body, he thought, his eyebrows arching.

Maybe a noble or a retired high-ranking soldier. He seemed too healthy to be a lowly commoner. Shoving his observations aside, Lucian opened his mouth, his canines sharpening and elongating. And then, nothing. His mouth remained open for a second before he closed it, along with his eyes. It's been a while, he thought. Using my mouth for such a thing. How degrading. After a few deep breaths and a heavy scowl, he opened his mouth and plunged his fangs into the dead man's neck.

The remnants of the corpse's blood flowed into Lucian's mouth, being absorbed by his body like water seeping into a sponge, as a crimson rune flashed and accelerated the process. Swiftly, through the rune, his body broke down the blood, refining it into a special kind of energy. This energy had a crimson hue and slightly enhanced Lucian's constitution, be it his muscles, bones, or organs, while most of it was kept inside that fuzzy rune, its shape similar to a hollowed eye socket.

Throwing the mummified corpse aside to burn with the others, he cast a strange glance at it and then looked curiously at the other bodies. That man provided me with more Blood Essence than a mortal, he mused inwardly. The other corpses seemed the same. I don't believe these were all nobles or soldiers traveling in disguise. Amidst his thoughts, he heard a bunch of cries from the other side of the wreckage, a mixture of a female one and two male ones.

At least she's serving as a distraction, he thought, slowly activating the Blood Essence inside him to empower a rune. Fortunately, the corpse had given him more than he had expected, so there was no need to use his mouth again. Controlling the Blood Essence with his mind, Lucian scowled as he felt the throbbing in his head intensify even before he finished conjuring the technique. I am getting tired of such a weakness.

Pushing through the pain, he extended his right hand toward another corpse as a crimson rune flashed across his palm. Upon it was the image of a hand plucking out an eye, surrounded by strange, shifting sigils. Devilish Arts: Boon of Greed – Blinded by Power Soon after, the corpse twitched, and from its seven orifices, blood began to flow. It rose into the air, gathering before the rune. Too slow, Lucian remarked inwardly, as the blood swirled and condensed into a crimson eyeball.

As soon as the corpse dried, he moved toward the next one. Meanwhile, the blood spilled across the battlefield sublimated into a crimson gas. This red fog drifted through the air toward the floating eye, causing it to swell slightly. From time to time, thin strands of liquid blood would separate and flow into Lucian's mouth, being absorbed and refined into Blood Essence, used to sustain the technique. Despite the visible progress, his expression darkened as the far-away cries came to an abrupt stop.

Lucian felt it would be a problem if those four men of unknown strength found him. However, it would also be a problem if they simply left the camp without giving him any information. One must understand that this was Lucian's second night in the forest, and despite searching relentlessly in every direction, even under the heavy rain of the previous nights, he had found nothing.

Adding to his problems, these wagons seemed to have come from no visible road, as though they had emerged in the forest, so he had no trail to follow out. He needed information as soon as possible. Knowing he had to make a decision quickly, Lucian clenched his right hand into a fist. The red eyeball exploded in red liquid.

All the blood surged into his mouth as he absorbed it, and though the quantity and purity were greater than he would have expected from dead mortal bodies, it was still not enough to grant him a true sense of security. If necessary, I will flee. As the thought crossed his mind, Lucian felt no fear of battle. He turned and walked back toward where he had last seen the four men, planning for the worst.

I need to know where I am and how to go back to my Castle, he thought, moving as quickly as his current body allowed. It did not take long for him to reach the other side of the wreckage and spot the four men gathered around a pile of goods, picking through the items and dividing them. His senses were sharp enough to catch their conversation, yet, as before, he did not recognize the language.

Information is more important than raw power, he thought, deciding to sacrifice part of his offensive potential as he guided the Blood Essence through his body, condensing a new rune within his brain. The rune resembled a neck being gripped by four fingers, while shifting sigils phased in and out of existence around it. Devilish Arts: Boon of Lust – Out of Touch A great amount of Blood Essence was consumed to complete the technique, nearly half of what Lucian had gathered.

Better be worth it, he thought with a groan. After a subtle click inside his mind, his eyes shone crimson, and the sounds reaching his ears carried the intent, including the intent of communication that surged when someone wanted to talk to another. Because of it, he could now understand the meaning behind the group's foreign language.

"Second Brother, I swear she was unarmed," the shortest man said, touching the trail of blood on his cheek.

"Let me do it while she's sleeping! Please!"

"Fourth Brother, we need to focus on what truly matters," the large man, the Second Brother, replied with a laugh, gesturing toward the materials piled at the center.

"Besides, it's not my fault you didn't check for hidden weapons."

"What? Don't say that, this bi—" The Fourth Brother was cut off when the bald man among them raised his hand, muttering something under his breath. Lucian could not understand what he was saying, not because the man's voice was too soft and indistinct, but because he was talking to himself without intent to communicate. The other three waited until the bald man finished muttering and lowered his hand.

"So, Big Brother, how is it?" the shorter man said, licking his lips and forgetting both the woman and his small wound. The other two, the broad Second Brother and the silent Third Brother, were also staring at the bald man, focused while holding their breath. Glancing at each of them, their Big Brother smiled.

"Twelve Grey Spirit Stones," he said, pausing before bursting into laughter.

"And two Jade Spirit Stones! Two! Jade! Stones!" The trio's eyes widened before they jumped up and embraced one another.

"We have enough. We have more than enough," the bald man declared, then pointed at the silent man who appeared too stunned to react.

"Third Brother, in a month, you will go to Peacock Mountain and beg mercy from Chief Huoxing! You're gonna have your life back!" Slowly, the so-called Third Brother nodded and was about to bow when the Big Brother caught him by the right shoulder and shoved a small leather pouch into his arms.

"Pay what you owe and come back to us when you are ready," the bald man said, patting the Third Brother's shoulder before turning to the other two.

"And you two ruffians, there is no need to say more. The remaining Spirit Stones will be used to buy us a place in Three Feathers City!"

"Hurray!" The Second and Fourth Brothers slapped each other's right hands in glee. Lucian observed everything from afar with quiet apathy. He was organizing and dissecting the information they had provided. What are these Spirit Stones? He glanced at the pouches, then at the gold and jewelry scattered across the ground, ignored by the group. And why are they so valuable? Another detail caught his attention during their conversation. I do not remember where Three Feathers City is.

Because he was comprehending intent rather than merely listening to words, he knew they were referring to a specific place, not a generic term like 'a city with three feathers'. From their appearances, they should be from the Eastern Region of the Human Sage Domain, he thought, in doubt. However, there was no place with that name. Did things change in my sleep? Before he could further contemplate, his attention shifted to the Second Brother, who was walking toward him.

"Don't take too long, or there will be nothing left for you!" the short Fourth Brother shouted, swinging a gourd of wine. The Second Brother made an obscene gesture with his hand without turning back. When he passed Lucian's hiding place, he did not turn or glance at the tree where Lucian concealed himself. Weak perception, Lucian noticed. He followed the large man with his eyes, then checked back at the trio, who were drinking and eating.

Clicking his tongue softly, Lucian followed the Second Brother, wanting to gather more information. The muscled man did not go far. After finding a bush not smeared with ash and blood, he pushed his trousers down and crouched in a well-known position, ready to do his business. Lucian's eyes flashed a cold light, for the situation differed greatly from his usual lifestyle. Holding back his temper, he stepped out from his hiding spot before the large man could proceed.

Seeing Lucian's silhouette, the Second Brother immediately stood up, pulling his trousers back up as he shouted, "Who are—" Then he noticed Lucian's crimson gaze and unfamiliar attire. Lucian had pale skin and long black hair, dressed in smeared yet unmistakably expensive black robes, leather shoes, and garments made from a silk-like material.

Combining that with the fact that Lucian emitted no Qi in his perception and walked without emitting sound, the trembling Second Brother quickly dropped to his knees and kowtowed.

"Senior, this junior greets you and apologizes for this— I was…" His voice trembled as he struggled to find words in front of what he thought was a mysterious cultivator, and he soon smashed his forehead against the ground.

"I beg your mercy!" Lucian hummed, his posture indicating how accustomed he was to such displays. Inwardly, however, he felt uncertain. Terms like 'Junior' and 'Senior' were too intimate for him, and usually people called him Master, Lord, or Devil. Having approached the almost naked man to gather information, Lucian engaged in conversation.

"You must know me." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. In response, the large man slowly lifted his head. His eyes trembled as he stared, frozen. Frowning at the prolonged silence, Lucian said in a slightly sharper tone, "Say my name." The Second Brother's mouth moved faintly as he searched for words, clearly lost in what to say. Lucian's eyes deepened into a darker shade of red.

He did not expend any Blood Essence, yet the aura around them seemed to grow heavy, and the Second Brother turned pale.

"Say. My. Name." Hearing Lucian's slow tone, the Second Brother felt his life in danger and shouted, "Mercy, Senior! This lowly one does not speak such a heavenly tongue and does not understand you! I'll punish myself for such incompetence!" While the Second Brother slammed his head against the ground, Lucian sighed. I can make him understand me, but it will cost. How forgetful of me.

Never before had he been forced to use his runes' techniques with such a meager supply of Blood Essence, and he had forgotten how he had activated one aspect of the Rune of Lust, but not the other. Lucian had spent a long time training and discovering how to abuse and twist his powers, of course, but he had always possessed the resources to support him. How long has it been since I was in this kind of situation? No, I was never this weak, he thought, his lips twitching.

Instead of feeling anger or fear, he felt a bit of amusement. If not for the danger born of the unknown and the unfamiliar sense of insecurity caused by his lack of Blood Essence, Lucian suspected he might have enjoyed this experience. Shaking his head to dissipate unnecessary thoughts, he turned his attention back to the bowing man. The Second Brother had just dared to glance up at Lucian, but noticing the crimson gaze, the cultivator was about to beg for mercy again.

Lucian raised his hand and made a small motion, signaling the fearful man to stay still. Before the Second Brother could speak or act, Lucian empowered the Rune of Lust, activating another of its traits and expending more of his stored Blood Essence.

"You must know who I am, mortal," he said. Pan Xunmeng, the Second Brother, froze in terror after hearing Lucian. What had once been a melodious voice whose words he could not comprehend had now transformed into a mind-shattering sound that forced meaning directly into his thoughts. It was such an otherworldly experience that he connected it to one of the most terrifying things for a cultivator. Heart Demon!

Pan Xunmeng had heard of Heart Demons from his Big Brother, who spoke of them as tribulations that would confront every cultivator attempting to advance to a new major realm. However, Pan Xunmeng was only a Qi Gathering cultivator! He was at the first step of the cultivation journey, a frog in the well! Forget about achieving a breakthrough to an unheard-of major realm. Even advancing to the next realm, from Qi Gathering to Qi Refining, was a task that could consume an entire lifetime in Pan Xunmeng's case.

Despite his despair, Pan Xunmeng once again did what he believed was right, kowtowing and slamming his forehead against the ground as he searched for the most respectful words he could offer to stall the Heart Demon.

"This lowly one has never heard of your exalted name! It was my foolishness and bad karma that gave me the audacity to even gaze upon your existence!"

"..." Lucian was speechless. He isn't lying, Lucian thought, his mind racing. He cannot be a Mage, then. There are chapters about me in their books. All other forces would teach about me, too. That brought more doubts to Lucian. Then how could a group of non-mages cause so much destruction? Maybe they are all mutants lost in this forest? Lucian wanted to talk and gather information, mostly because he had no guarantee that violence would give him what he sought, but the questions were piling up and not diminishing!

If he doesn't know me, why is this murderer and bandit so timid? He should have attacked me by now. Why treat me with so much fear? You just murdered almost a hundred people! Amidst his thoughts, he heard a noise behind him. Adjusting his stance so he could observe his surroundings while keeping the bowing Second Brother within his field of vision, Lucian saw one of the other three bandits approaching.

With the sky covered in clouds and the only source of light being the blazing wagons in the distance, the shifting shadows made it easy for Lucian to conceal himself from the newcomer's sight. Pan Xunmeng also didn't see Lucian moving because of his lowered head. Soon, a new voice was heard.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?" the Fourth Brother shouted, noticing his Second Brother kowtowing. Pan Xunmeng raised his head and glanced at his sworn brother, moving his eyes frantically in an attempt to indicate the entity before him. However, he soon realized there was no one there. Pan Xunmeng's already pale face was drained of all color, his expression twisting into pure terror.

"Second Brother, did you eat some strange plant?" the Fourth Brother asked, casting a curious look at the space Pan Xunmeng had been staring at. Then he noticed the blood running down his friend's forehead and felt goosebumps rise along his arms. Stepping forward to help Pan Xunmeng stand, he lowered his voice.

"What happened?" Pan Xunmeng whispered back, his eyes unfocused.

"A Heart Demon. I saw a Heart Demon." In response, the Fourth Brother slapped his own forehead and stood up with a snort.

"You dickless bastard. I was worried for a moment. Where did you learn to act so well? You should go to a brothel and learn to sing and dance too!"

"Zhou Ren, I am telling the truth!" Zhou Ren, the short Fourth Brother, scowled.

"This prank has gone too far. Let's go back. Big Brother already finished one gourd and said we need to leave at sunrise. You know what that means, right? We need to eat and drink fast! And I want a round with that woman! We didn't even—" As he turned to leave, Zhou Ren felt Pan Xunmeng grab his arm and interrupt him with a cry.

"A Heart Demon spoke to me, Fourth Brother. I swear!" Stunned, Zhou Ren stared into Pan Xunmeng's eyes. He recognized the fear and despair there, the same look he had seen countless times in his victims. Grabbing the larger man by the arm, Zhou Ren circulated his Qi, preparing to retreat and find their Big Brother. Whether it was truly a Heart Demon, an illusion technique, a cultivator in disguise, or his Second Brother losing his mind, Zhou Ren did not know.

However, he had known the man for years, and he was certain Pan Xunmeng was not joking. Meanwhile, Lucian allowed himself a faint smile when he heard the bandit call him a Heart Demon. Because he was perceiving intent rather than precise words, he did not grasp the exact phrasing, only the general meaning. So he knows me, he thought. Devil Prince would be more accurate, but Devouring Demon makes sense. Well, having the true meaning of one of my titles distorted in this unknown land is hardly surprising.

For Lucian, it seemed the man had indeed heard of him, yet lied out of fear. Nonetheless, Lucian could hardly blame Pan Xunmeng. Among humans, his reputation was anything but good. A shame I didn't notice his lie. I must be getting rusty, he sighed inwardly. However, now I cannot allow them to leave without giving me information. Unwilling to let them go or call for reinforcements, Lucian stepped from the shadows and appeared before Zhou Ren and Pan Xunmeng.

Seeing him emerge silently from the darkness, both cultivators froze. Zhou Ren's eyes scanned the pale newcomer, fear growing in his heart as he stepped back. He could not sense a single trace of Qi from Lucian, and given the unusual attire, Zhou Ren guessed that the mysterious figure was either from a powerful Sect or the Imperial Clan! His only doubt was why his Second Brother had called this being a Heart Demon. After a second, Lucian spoke through the Rune of Lust.

"Control your fear," he said calmly.

"Now, tell me the name of this place." Zhou Ren heard Lucian's devilish voice inside his mind for the first time and stumbled two steps back, his face draining of color. Pan Xunmeng, however, stared at his Fourth Brother with surprise. Zhou Ren could see Lucian! The realization struck Pan Xunmeng harder than any blow. If Lucian had truly been a Heart Demon, then only Pan Xunmeng should have been able to perceive him.

Such an entity would have manifested from within his own heart, pursuing him relentlessly until it devoured his cultivation base. But Zhou Ren was staring directly at Lucian, which meant there wasn't any Heart Demon. Pan Xunmeng's gaze returned to the pale figure before them, his eyes hardening. Lucian was speaking in a language neither brother understood, yet somehow forced its meaning directly into their minds. He had approached without a sound and stood before them as calmly as a predator watching trapped prey.

Given these facts, Pan Xunmeng believed he had found the truth about who Lucian was. A Demonic Cultivator! And, almost simultaneously, he accepted that he was going to die.

"Run!" Pan Xunmeng suddenly roared.

"Find our brothers and leave this place! He is demonic scum!" Before Zhou Ren could react, Pan Xunmeng seized his arm. The same strange force Lucian had witnessed earlier, when one of them picked a metal box in the flaming wagon, surged through the large man's body. Then Pan Xunmeng hurled his Fourth Brother toward their camp. Zhou Ren shot through the air and disappeared into the bushes, screaming, "Ahhh! Second Brotheeer!" Lucian blinked, and he formed his own theories. A mutant with enhanced strength!

For Lucian, dealing with mages was troublesome, as one could never predict which spell they might weave. Fighting mutants, on the other hand, was straightforward once the extent of their mutations was known. And this is only a minor enhancement, barely enough to deal with the weakest of my kin. He would never admit it, but he felt a faint sense of relief.

After the encounter with the azure boar and witnessing how dozens of humans had been slaughtered by this group, Lucian had been worried they might be strong enough to threaten his life and awaken the Curse of Wrath. Still, I cannot grow complacent. One of the others might be a mage or have a more powerful mutation, he thought. Lucian had no time to ponder further, as in the next instant, Pan Xunmeng roared.

Empowered by fear, the Second Brother of the bandit group commanded his Qi to surge through his two opened meridians, and with a burst of force in his legs, he kicked off the ground.

"I won't let you kill my brothers!" With a shout, he threw a punch at Lucian's face. Expecting death the moment he attacked, Pan Xunmeng was stunned when the supposed powerful Demonic Cultivator before him avoided the blow with minimal movement. Lucian had dodged the attack by tilting his head and followed up by driving his fist into Pan Xunmeng's throat. Both of them were surprised.

This is more like full-body reinforcement rather than mere enhanced strength, Lucian thought, sliding his feet across the ground for better balance and launching another strike. Pan Xunmeng felt a sharp pain erupt in his throat, followed by violent bursts throughout his body. Blood spurted from his mouth, and his organs trembled from each hit. Yet instead of fear, rage filled his heart.

"You bastard!" Pan Xunmeng snarled, clenching his teeth and raising his arms to guard his head and vital points. Then, he channeled Qi to harden his body as much as possible.

"You are playing with me! Use your strength! I'm not a beast!" Lucian ignored him and moved like a specter, always out of reach of Pan Xunmeng's counterattacks. Adding to that, Lucian's strikes may have lacked overwhelming force, but they landed on the most painful spots, causing Pan Xunmeng to clamp his mouth shut and focus entirely on circulating Qi to reinforce his defenses. On the other hand, after trading a few blows, Lucian was puzzled. This kid has no real combat experience.

It had been ages since Lucian had fought in close quarters. Besides, in the current situation, almost depleted of Blood Essence to enhance his physique, he was barely stronger than a trained mortal. Battling in his state wasn't supposed to be easy. Yet, his opponent seemed like a child, enduring a beating without mounting any proper counterattack. Lucian even had the leisure time to remain vigilant, observe his surroundings, and conserve his strength while fighting.

As the seconds passed, his brows furrowed, and he was genuinely confused. He should already be unconscious. Where is his endurance coming from? Despite having his organs ruptured, Pan Xunmeng continued defending himself as if he were born to endure punishment. I can't waste more time, or the others will flee, Lucian thought, his eyes turning cold. Deciding to change tactics, he feigned a misstep, allowing his body to tilt as though he were losing balance.

Pan Xunmeng was dizzy from the beating, but when he saw Lucian falter, he seized the opportunity. Channeling Qi into both arms, he threw a double punch. Amateur, Lucian thought, and stabilized himself instantly, sliding past the blows and reappearing beside the man. In one swift motion, he drove two fingers into each of Pan Xunmeng's eyes, tearing out his eyeballs. A howl of agony ripped through Pan Xunmeng's throat as he swung his arm around in a blind attempt to strike.

Lucian moved with silent steps and opened his mouth, elongating his fangs. As Pan Xunmeng thrashed blindly, abandoning his defensive stance, Lucian lunged at him, locking Pan Xunmeng's arms and using the cultivator's own strength against him. Once his opponent was fully restrained, Lucian plunged his elongated fangs into the cultivator's neck to siphon blood. Such a shameful fight, he thought. At last, it's over. Within two seconds, Pan Xunmeng's screams ceased. Two seconds later, his movements stopped.

Releasing the corpse and letting it fall to the ground, Lucian stepped back and frowned. What is this? he thought as a crimson light flickered in his eyes. Lucian shook his head as his muscles twitched. The blood he had swallowed surged violently within him, slamming against his insides and causing pain, as if fighting against the refinement of Blood Essence and the shackles of the Rune of Greed. What is this energy?

For the first time in his existence, the process of refining blood had issues beyond his comprehension. Searching for the cause of such peculiar failure, Lucian felt a scattering of colorless particles mixed within the blood, an unfamiliar energy neither his body nor the rune could deal with. While he struggled to fight back against the foreign energy, three figures suddenly came to a halt near him, staring at Pan Xunmeng's shriveled corpse with aghast expressions.

"Second Brother!" Xin Fang, the bald Big Brother of the group, shouted with trembling lips. He stood alongside the silent Huoxing Shen and the short Zhou Ren. All three felt their blood boil and their minds go blank as they stared at the mummified corpse of their Second Brother. Just as their Third Brother, Huoxing Shen, was about to move forward, Xin Fang raised a hand and pressed it against his brother's chest, gripping the shirt tightly.

"Don't you dare," he hissed in a whisper, his eyes bloodshot.

"Look at his corpse! Do you have a death wish?!" Looking at the mummified corpse in the ground, Xin Fang was filled with hatred and regret. Raiding the merchant caravan had been his idea, and returning after Zhou Ren reported his Second Brother's situation was his decision. No matter what, his actions paved the way for Pan Xunmeng's death! I didn't kill Brother Pan, but bringing the others here doomed us! His gaze shifted to Lucian, who was standing motionless above Pan Xunmeng's corpse.

Just as Zhou Ren had reported, Lucian wore expensive, weird-looking attire from foreign lands. It could be from a major or mid-sized Demonic Sect, as far as he could tell. More importantly, Xin Fang could not sense any Qi flow emanating from Lucian. No… I can sense Qi, Xin Fang realized. But it appears weird. Is it even his Qi? Why is there no recognizable flow? Oh heavens, I'm too weak! Suddenly, a dull thud echoed, interrupting Xin Fang's thoughts, followed by a low whining sound.

Both Xin Fang and Huoxing Shen turned toward Zhou Ren, who now stood glaring at Pan Xunmeng's corpse. Zhou Ren had slammed his fist into a tree trunk and was sobbing, his heart filled with grief.

"You killed him and turned his body into this," Zhou Ren growled, teeth grinding.

"I will kill you, bast—" His words were cut short as Xin Fang struck the back of his neck, knocking the short man unconscious, using his greater cultivation base to cause little pain. Catching his fallen brother, Xin Fang handed him to Huoxing Shen, then stealthily secured most of the Spirit Stone pouches in his brother's shirt. Xin Fang's gaze, however, never left Lucian, who still stood with closed eyes.

"Third Brother," Xin Fang whispered, then paused before forcing a faint smile.

"There is not much to say." Huoxing Shen held Zhou Ren in his arms and opened his mouth to speak, but Xin Fang stepped forward, interrupting him.

"Born on different days, we swore to die on the same day," Xin Fang declared in a low tone.

"But that does not mean it must be in the same year, right?" Scoffing at his own words, Xin Fang shot a glance at Huoxing Shen, their eyes meeting with complicated feelings.

"Send my regards to your Great-Uncle. Remember to toast at my grave next year." Huoxing Shen understood the hidden meaning and nodded in return, feeling a pang in his heart. His gaze drifted to Pan Xunmeng's corpse, then to the broad back of his Big Brother, and finally to the unconscious Fourth Brother in his arms. The same way he understood why he had to leave and save his younger bloodsworn brother, he understood why Xin Fang had to stay! Tears welled in Huoxing Shen's eyes, but he did not allow them to fall.

Empowering his body with a Qi technique, he glared at Lucian, burning the man's image into his memory, then turned and fled into the night. Xin Fang did not turn around to see his brothers' departing figures. He kept facing Lucian, ready to intercept him if he attempted to pursue the duo. Lucian, however, paid no attention to them. He had barely managed to find a way to purge the unknown energy within his body, and while Xin Fang talked, he kept searching for a better solution.

Expelling the blood along with those foreign particles would be a tremendous waste. There must be another method, he thought. The amount of blood he had siphoned was not great, yet it carried the potential to generate as much Blood Essence as consuming from eight to a dozen healthy humans. What kind of energy seeps so deeply into one's blood? Who created it? Lucian had tasted more blood than anyone he knew.

Blood from countless sources, of varying colors and flavors, drawn from mortals, beasts, mages, and mutants alike. And be it mana, or genetic mutation, or some disease, he had never had this much trouble refining blood. Meanwhile, Xin Fang was drenched in sweat, his mind racing through possible strategies. For now, the bald man's objective was to stall, and he was more than willing to observe Lucian's unmoving figure. The thought of fleeing had crossed his mind, of course.

He would have done so if he had not firmly believed Lucian would pursue him and his brothers without hesitation. Then, his fleeting thoughts were interrupted by a sigh that sounded more like an irritated snort. Lucian, unaware of the cultivator's inner turmoil, decided that too much time had passed and that he should make a move. Controlling his Blood Essence, he commanded it to force Pan Xunmeng's blood out of his body through his mouth.

Unaware of what was happening, Xin Fang watched in horror as Lucian opened his mouth toward the ground. First came a crimson mist, followed by a torrent of blood, far more than any human should be capable of regurgitating! Then, it came the Qi! Together, they formed a pool of blood on the ground, and after a few seconds, Xin Fang noticed the Qi dissipating in the air. As his gaze flickered toward his brother's mummified corpse and then to the pool of blood, a chill crawled down his spine.

He circulated Qi and rooted himself firmly to the ground to prevent himself from fleeing in sheer terror. If before he had any doubt, now he was sure that Lucian was using a demonic technique! And it was one capable of harvesting humans' Qi! While Xin Fang's thoughts spiraled, Lucian opened his eyes with a quiet exhale and wiped his mouth clean. Next, he directed his gaze at the man before him. He is terrified, Lucian observed with an inward nod.

Even if he is a mutant or a mage, witnessing such a sight would paralyze most humans.

"Mortal," he said calmly through intent, using the Rune of Lust.

"Your friend knew who I was but failed to talk to me properly. Tell me where I am, and I'll let you live." Hearing the demonic voice reach him, Xin Fang's heart skipped a beat. Before his sect was destroyed in the northern war, Xin Fang had heard about the strength required to communicate directly through another person's mind. Now, he firmly believed that Lucian was a Grand Elder from one of the Nine Sects, a being capable of destroying kingdoms and influencing the empire with a wave of his hand!

Meanwhile, Lucian had other concerns. What is this mysterious energy that I cannot consume, and why do these mortals have it? For the first time since awakening in this strange land, the Vampire Ancestor had found questions worth investigating beyond simply where he was.